


let the right one in.

by baali



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (They Will Change), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:29:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baali/pseuds/baali
Summary: Okay. Good luck.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, basically they are all friends
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	let the right one in.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Good luck.

1.

"Okay, so tell me again, why are we doing this at your place? Isn't Roman still sick?" Janus Dubios paused in sweeping on eyeshadow to eye his partner in the mirror.

"Nah, fuck him. He was doing better today but if he gets all wheezy on us we can lock him in the lounge and do our thing in the garage," Remus Almeida responded.

Janus scoffed, pausing in applying his makeup to shoot Remus a dubious look. Remus had donned a wide, shit-eating grin and had framed his face between his hands as if a movie star doing a photoshoot, a poof of greying hair curled over his eyes. He looked like Stephen Strange's long-lost brother, something Virgil, Janus' brother, was sure to mention every time they met up face to face. It was the moustache. Definitely the moustache. 

"You think Roman, your darling brother, your impetuous, reckless, stubborn as a rock dumbass of a twin, is going to _let_ himself be left out of a party at his own house? A party _he_ proposed?" Janus had arched both his eyebrows so high up they'd all but disappeared into his hairline.

Remus snorted at Janus' offended expression, flicking the curl of hair out of his own right eye, and then waggled his eyebrows at his partner.

"Not really, but I was hoping we could try? Can't be hard to wrangle Thotticus Prime if we slap on a Disney movie for him. Make like Steve Irwin, get one of those long sticks and trap him after he does a couple death rolls." It wasn't the silliest idea to come out of Remus and it showed.

Janus laughed at the image, a snorting chuckle that served to widen his partner’s grin. "Remus, for the love of God, I'm not going to save you if this doesn't work. I'm bringing Toby and Virge, do I also have to bring a spray bottle for when Roman inevitably busts into the garage and kidnaps my brother for his Disney marathon?"

Remus snorted at the thought, this time folding his hand over his mouth, green eyes crinkled with glee as he fought down outright laughter. Janus couldn't help but smile too, even if a bit ruefully, his eyes softening at the genuine mischief sparkling in Remus’ gaze. He placed aside the brush used to apply his eyeshadow and made grabby hands at the man, to which Remus happily acquiesced and allowed the smaller to take him into his arms. Though Remus was about a foot taller than Janus, he still found a comfortable spot in his partner's lap.

"Shit, forgot you have a bony ass," Janus whispered a minute after they had settled into a comfortable silence, sounding more than a little winded. "Did you rob a graveyard again?"

Remus cackled.

"Of course not, Dee," he said. He leaned down to give his partner a kiss, pressing a wet one right to the centre of his forehead, bullseye on the vitiligo patch that had spread there from his eyes. "Yours is the only bone I like."

Janus wheezed. 

**x**

They’d met when they were kids.

Roman and Remus Almeida had moved to town from Hicksville Florida, riding in their parents’ minivan and arriving on a hot summer day sometime before the start of their kindergarten year.

They were a well-off family from the start. _Mãe_ was a fashion designer, herself coming from an affluent family in São Paolo and _pai_ was a househusband absolutely devoted to her. For that, Roman and Remus were already fortunate--many others their age had single parents in their school.

While their parents were an elegant couple of soft tones and artistic endeavours, the twins were something else altogether.

Remus was the older brother; he was an impetuous, reckless, astounding boy. He drew chalk unicorns on the sidewalk, giving them decapitated heads, and clapped joyfully when the rain washed them away. He climbed to the tallest branches in the trees at the park. He jumped from the highest point on the swing, dangled upside down from the monkeybars, played hide and seek in the pitch black basement at 3am on a schoolnight well into his adolescence. He was a force of chaos, unstoppable.

Roman, whom had been named Romulus when he emerged minutes after his twin, was the younger brother; he was an impetuous, reckless, astounding boy. He drew happy suns and pretty flowers on the walls in the bedrooms, proudly showing them to mãe and pai before they were washed off hours later. He played pretend at being a noble prince, swinging a stick at invisible enemies and vanquishing foes for the honour of his family. He made friends with the neighbourhood strays, gave kindly adults bright smiles for cheek pinches and cooed compliments. He was a force of chaos, immovable.

They were thick as thieves in those days; Remus the villain to the hero Romulus, and then Remus the hero to the dragon Romulus. In the summer of their fifth year of life, they were wild, alive, thrilled to simply _exist_. 

When school started that year, they sank quickly into notoriety with their teacher--neither boy could focus on task for long, neither boy couldn’t help but act the class clown, neither boy really made friends outside one another, neither boy could help but end up in time-out.

Janus and Virgil Dubois came in the spring the next year, riding in child seats in the back of moms’ station wagon. Mom came from a hard life. She’d come out as gay in highschool and had become disowned and outcast from her family and friends. She was the sweetest woman alive, worked the 9-to-5 at a clothing store downtown, and provided a safe home for her children. Mama was a sweet woman herself, a boisterous lady with an eye for fashion and a way with making friends. She was absolutely charming, outlandishly gay, loved her wife and her kids with a devotion that rivaled only her wife’s. Mama worked with mãe as an assistant, someone who collected swatches of fabric for her employer, kept her appointments in line, did coffee runs at Starbies every other day.

Although their moms were absolutely lovely women, they’d never had children of their own, but they were staunch supporters of foster homes and that’s how they found Janus and Virgil. It was also how, years down the line, they adopted October and completed their little family.

Janus was the older. He’d been born Dante, and declared a girl, but when he was thirteen he told his moms and his friends and everybody who questioned him that he wasn’t a girl. He came out as non-binary, preferring masculine pronouns, and asked everyone to call him Janus, and they did. He was a quiet kid at the start, as introverted as they came, and about two years younger than the twin sons of mama’s work friend. He had two different coloured eyes, a smattering of discoloured skin surrounding them like pale freckles, nimble fingers that stumbled over signed words when he wasn’t able to communicate verbally. He liked to roll down hills with his brother, loved scary movies, wanted mom to sing him lullabies when it was bedtime, needed to be held when his dreams got bad, loved to learn about reptiles.

Virgil was a year younger than his sibling and just as quiet, a shy little ghost originally confined to the house on all but the nicest days, watched over with Janus by pai when their moms worked. He was afraid of everything at the start: the gurgling of the coffee maker at 8am while mama cooked breakfast, the long shadows of the tree branches outside his window, nights when Janus slept in his own bed, any suggestion that he’d be without his beloved sibling. He wasn’t scared of the normal things; like Janus, he loved learning about reptiles and wanted mama to read from the wiki articles on different serpents as a bedtime story. He liked spiders, dropped ants in their webs, named all the ones in the basement and promised his moms that they’d never end up in the bedrooms.

October was the third Dubois child, but he came after Janus and Virgil had settled in. Toby was loud and rambunctious, found the patches of pale skin around Janus’ eyes and nose wonderful, held Virgil’s hands when his breath grew short and he needed to be left alone. Toby was a rock, a shard of pure sunlight lovingly placed in the Dubois household. He was scared of snakes and spiders, scared of the dark, scared of thunder, loved cats (despite having an allergy), and followed Roman around like a lost puppy when their siblings were out climbing trees.

In the beginning, neither Roman nor Remus were thrilled with having Janus and Virgil move in next to them. The two were too young for the twins, unable to relate to the trials of kindergarten, and for the most part they played separately under the watchful eyes of soft-spoken, even-tempered pai.

Janus was in kindergarten when their dynamic finally changed.

He was bullied from the start; too different, too strange, a ‘girl’ with mismatched eyes, dark skin bleached around his face in little freckles, too quiet, and too small to really put up a fight against the kids in the grades ahead of him. They called him all manner of nasty names, doing as poorly raised unsupervised white kids did. When games were played, Janus was the last picked. He sat alone during reading time, was pushed to the back at picture day, all but wilted like a poorly watered flower. It might not have helped that he came to his first day of school with cold anger in his eyes and hissed at adults attempting to soothe his nerves, but his moms were adamant that a poor attitude should never warrant bullying.

Those first couple weeks were hell. Between teachers who didn’t understand him, lower grade children throwing pebbles and pushing him in the schoolyard, and his moms taking their concerns to the adults meant to be keeping him safe, Janus felt like an outcast.

A month in, Janus was trying to mind his business as the grade ones and twos filled the schoolyard. He knew it was coming and had prepared himself all morning, his nightmares of this very scene having haunted him for days. Janus was _five years old_ and he’d given up on his teachers coming to his rescue. The boys bullied him because ‘they liked him’, the girls ‘just wanted to be his friend’. He just wanted to be left in peace.

He didn’t need to worry.

Remus Almeida came onto the scene like an enraged bull, howling like a banshee, windmilling his arms with tight fists, clearing a path through the twelve or so kids gathered to bully Janus, and he proceeded to chase them all away, screaming bloody murder the whole time.

That was the start of their friendship. Seven year old Remus Almeida and five year old Janus Dubois. That evening, Remus taught Janus how to ‘hit them where it hurt’ and then they climbed the tree in the Almeida backyard together. The kids were inseparable after that; Janus all but idolized Remus, talked about him all day to his moms, brought him to show and tell in the first grade, and at seven years old, he told his moms that Remus was his wife with a conviction that startled the women. Remus had stood at his side, holding his hand tightly and nodding. His green eyes had glinted in a challenge, his mouth had set into a serious line, but the way he let Janus lean into his side was a loud proclamation of the depth of his care for their child.

Mama had then laughed herself to stitches as mom, flustered, began asking a flurry of questions. Virgil had peeped in at the time, eyes wide and dark and attentive, and it all came into the light: Janus had learned about marriage from watching his moms, had seen the rings on the fingers of all four parents in the Almeida-Dubois cluster, and had given Remus a ring of twisted cherry stems that barely held together even for the ten minutes needed to explain the situation. Remus had nodded seriously the whole time to corroborate Janus’ declarations of adoration, himself coming out to say that Janus was his very best friend and they were wives now, thank you very much.

It was… well, not something the moms had expected, so they shelved the conversation to be had with the Almeidas later that night, ruffled the hair on the kids’ heads, and sent them back outside to continue playing pirates with Roman.

Years later, when Remus was seventeen and Janus fifteen, Janus put a shitty mood ring on Remus’ hand at the county fair and declared them wives for life, something that never failed to delight Remus whenever they told the story during family get-togethers. Their relationship was deeply and intimately platonic, but Janus had never not called Remus his wife after first declaring his intentions at seven years old. It was clear their relationship wasn’t like the relationship their parents had with their spouses, but that was fine with them. They had dates, enjoyed one another’s time, made up after fights with the ease of a devoted couple, and basically told everyone else to fuck off when questioned on sexuality. Virgil and Roman were the first to come around and that was really the only thing that mattered to them; the unquestioned support of their family meant everything.

Roman and Virgil themselves settled around the close friendship of Janus and Remus rather comfortably. At first it had bothered them both; Roman hadn’t liked having his twin focused on someone else aside from him, and Virgil was absolutely heartbroken that Janus had a new best friend and it wasn’t even Toby, the younger brother they got a few years after kindergarten. It had worked out, though; Janus won over Roman by participating wholeheartedly in the games of make-believe Roman loved. He took part in befriending the local strays and mourned them right alongside Roman when they inevitably disappeared, likely taken in by the humane society. Remus won over Virgil with time, and he did it by giving him his attention, listening to his ideas, learning sign language to communicate with the Dubois kids when they were non-verbal, learning how to help Virgil through his anxiety attacks. It was Remus’ wholehearted care that warmed Virgil into a friendship, and while neither Roman nor Virgil themselves became friends until highschool, they did enjoy spending time with their siblings--and that was all the really mattered to every one of them.


End file.
